


The Degradation of Aysakir

by sadisticnarwhals



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-06-29 22:15:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15738396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadisticnarwhals/pseuds/sadisticnarwhals
Summary: Leandro is a city boy in search of an adventure. Akira is a notorious delinquent. Together they navigate the streets and underground of the great city of Aysakir. They discover that maybe not everything is as perfect as everyone thought.





	1. The Vandai Oracle

**Author's Note:**

> Hi,  
> I love the idea of Leakira and just had to contribute to the fandom. I am in no way disrespecting the creators of Voltron Legendary Defender, only having fun.
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

Leandro had always been a fan of the city. Everyone knew that the great city of Aysakir was known for its opulence and grandeur, no building or piece of technology more than a year old. Its outward appearance was always changing, morphing daily into something new, always something unheard of. This is what drew tourists to Aysakir, the promise of the unexpected, it was what drew Leandro to the city. However, after a while, the city had begun to lose its excitement. It had begun to feel false, like there was something that was missing, and he desperately needed to find it. 

He stalked the streets, occasionally stopping to wink at the pretty cyborgs who perched in alleyways and corners. Eventually, he slowed to a halt in front of an unassuming building. He pushed his goggles up onto his forehead as he looked down at the smudged writing scrawled on his hand then at the neon sign, Vandai Oracle. Rumours had drifted across the city chat rooms that here is where he would find what he sought.

Apprehensively, he touched his fingertips to the key panel, which was a standard of every building. Immediately, the glass lit up with his information, Leandro sighed as the monotonous voice recited his details to him from inside his mind. He was really beginning to regret downloading the new software linking him to the city into his nanochip. He waited patiently as it catalogued his presence. After a second of robotic contemplation, a doorway appeared in the smooth side of the building. He exhaled, his heartbeat pounding in his ears, as he stepped inside.

The outside of the Vandai Oracle was bland, another of the city’s many buildings, but the inside was the polar opposite. It had a certain sense of organic retro, as if it had been misplaced into the wrong era. It was a sort of bar, the type that the less affluent troubled youth frequented. The aura radiated old films, from back in the days of cowboys and gangsters. The occupants looked the part too, all dressed in varying shades of black and brown, appearing more menacing in the lowly lit den. The people here were all nefarious looking, with some bearing traces of violence, scars and replaced limbs. Various containers of dubious looking liquid lined the walls, shattered canisters littered the grimy floor, there were even scorch marks from laser guns lining the walls. The whole place shouted illegal activity and crime. Leandro begun to feel the creepings of fear and unease as the chatter begun to fade away, every pair of eyes drifting to him. 

“What have we here?” a rough voice punctured the heavy silence, followed by a cruel smile and the swing of a heavy fist.


	2. The Beginning

Akira lounged in the shadows as the rich city kid got beat up. It was entirely his fault for coming, but Akira could not help but feel sympathy for the boy. As soon as he strolled in, everybody immediately stopped their dealings. He was so different, his mismatched eyes shining brighter than the flickering neon strobe lights of the bar. In the city, wealth and class were categorised differently. The boy was foreign, as could be told from his single blue eye, but he was also wealthy, as could be seen from the hue of his eye, dark midnight blue. Akira knew this sort, the type that lounge around in cyberbars, surrounded by hordes of beautiful cyborgs and robots, their eyes keys to the whole world. The type that the law didn’t affect. However, here, all their eyes brought them was isolation and an immediate target on their back. There was no one in the entire Oracle that did not want to beat up a rich kid, but it was Solair Galra who got to him first. Akira, and the rest of the bar, watched on in silence as Sol and his subjects pulverised the newcomer. 

“Stop, please!!” the boy cried as he got knocked onto the floor.   
Sol did not show any signs of slowing down as his leg connected with the boy’s head.   
“You can’t hurt me, the city knows I’m here! Stop!” he yelled, a trickle of blood weaved its way across his smooth caramel skin.  
This drew a low chuckle from around the bar. He was not just foolish, but rather, plain stupid.  
“City boy,” Sol drawled, “there are no laws around here.”  
His subjects cackled as they continued attacking him. The city kid looked around frantically as he sought a savior. There were no people in the Oracle who were the sort to even consider it. But suddenly, his mismatched eyes flickered to Akira’s corner. It was almost as if he looked directly at Akira. He shook his head, dismissing this thought, no one could see Akira in the shadows. But the boy held his gaze. He mouthed save me. 

After a while, Sol grew tired of it and ordered his followers to dump his body back onto the streets. His cyborgs laughed as they dragged his barely conscious body across the floor, leaving a trail of blood behind as the broken shards of glass on the floor cut into his skin. And in a moment, the commotion was over. It was as if nothing had happened, and everyone went back to their conversations, packages were passed and alcohol was served. 

Akira could not stop thinking about the boy. Maybe he’d be different, but most likely not. He found that he could not cast him from his mind, even as his brother, Hachi, jostled his shoulder. He found himself standing up, earning a eye roll from Hachi, as if to say, whatever, see you later. He ambled across the floor, sticking to the shadows, his boots landing in puddles of blood mixed with spilled drinks. The door gave way for him as he looked outside. 

Akira did not like the city. Once, he had thought the city to be amazing, but that time had long passed. To him, the city was just another landscape that sought to weed out different people, people like Akira. It was so bright, as if it thought that it could flush people out, like darkness. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust before finding what he sought. The boy leaned against the side of a rubbish shaft with his eyes closed. 

He opened his eyes, or eye rather as one of them had been swollen shut, when he heard Akira approach. It was the brown eye that looked at Akira, the one that was human.   
“Have you come to kill me? I don’t mind, no one will care.” he whispered.  
Akira stopped. He had spoken with such sadness, a conviction of hopelessness, not at all the voice of a rich city kid. Akira was not sure what he was doing outside in the first place, but now he knew.  
“Get up, you’re not dying just yet.” He said as he hauled the boy up, slinging his arm around his shoulders. 

From the shadows, Solair Galra watched as the two boys interacted.   
“Get me information on the rich kid, he might just be interesting.”


	3. Questions

Leandro had no clue as to what was going on. One minute he was wandering through the city, and the next, he was in a sketchy looking bar getting beaten up. It was an unpleasant feeling, the fear and pain coursing through his mind. He had never been hit before, and was therefore unaccustomed to how he could possible defend himself. He knew that he must have looked pretty pathetic and weak as he curled into a ball on the floorboards of the bar. He didn’t remember the entire ordeal, and was glad so. He vaguely remembered seeing a silhouette approach him after he was unceremoniously dumped in the alley. Then he blacked out.

When he resurfaced into the land of consciousness, he wanted to die. His head hurt, his ribs hurt, his back hurt, there was not a single part of him that did not hurt. He let out a guttural groan as he tried and failed to sit up. He was in a humid dimly lit room, which looked too old to be part of the city. There were no bots, nor were there holograms, the grimy walls imbedded with industrial shelves stacked with miscellaneous clatter. He was seriously confused. 

“Oh excellent, you’re awake. I was beginning to find a good body dumping ground.” a voice chuckled from the corner of the room.

The owner of the voice was a boy, similar in age to Leandro. Immediately, he could tell that he was not part of the aristocratic higher class of the city, but rather the lower city unsavouries. There was a peculiar aura to him, it was as if he were made of darkness, rather than flesh or metal. He sat up in his chair, bringing him into the light. Leandro stifled a gasp as he took in his features. He had an angular facial bone structure and the way the light gleamed on his cheeks gave him an ethereal look. This combined with his pale violet eyes painted an image of a debonair outcast, the sort that appeared in movies, the ones that were troubled but beautiful. The ones that rescued innocent girls. Perhaps he was the innocent girl in this situation.

“Are you going to do anything other than stare? How about let’s start with a name.”  
Leandro blinked. 

“Oh, sorry. Leandro’s the name.” Leandro croaked. “Who are you, where am I, what happened?”

“Woah slow down!” the boy laughed. “Here, have something to drink.”

He stood up and gingerly helped Leandro to a sitting position and shoved a dubious looking cup into his hands. He winced as he tipped the contents into his mouth. 

“What’s going on?” He inquired as he set the cup down.

“Well, Leandro, you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Given, there is no right time to be at the Vandai Oracle. The only time people find themselves at the Oracle is when they need something. And here is the big question, why were you there, Leandro?” 

Leandro looked down. He took a minute before answering, his voice small and soft.  
“I don’t know. It felt as if I was looking for something.” He swallowed, “or someone.”  
“Well, did you find it?” The boy whispered.  
Leandro looked up and caught his gaze.  
“Maybe.”

**Author's Note:**

> The idea is that the chapters will be short but they will be frequent. Hopefully I commit to this, hopefully.


End file.
